THE LITTLE CAFÉ THAT COULD, JUST DID.

A country tale of how to build a community with coffee, South Devon beef burgers, and - recipe alert - smoked salmon cheesecake.

Ten years ago, my sister-in-law Lois had a big birthday coming up, so we all asked her what she wanted, fully expecting her to say “anything with spots on it”, that being her thing. But no. “Baby bay trees” she said. “I need 100 of them.”

So we all chipped in and gave her small pots of straggly little bay trees, which she planted around her newly opened café, on the shores of Lake Purrumbete, in the Western District of Victoria.

Those little bay trees are now ten years old - which is a winding-country-road way of saying Happy 10th Birthday to Lake Edge Café, and congratulations to Lois.

Lois says the ten years is a miracle. “I gave myself two years, then I gave another two and another two, and suddenly it’s been ten years.”

When I ask what has been the hardest thing about surviving for 10 years, she says “nothing”.

Prior to this (bay)tree-change to being a café owner, she ran her own cattle farm and the award-winning South Devon Stud founded by her mother Kath May at Tesbury while bringing up two boys single-handedly. So this probably looked like a walk in the park.

People love Lake Edge Café. They bring their oldies and their youngies, they order the sausage rolls, and Aunty Mary’s sweet potato, carrot and ginger soup, and they sit out on the terrace admiring the birds on the lake. They rest. They breathe. It’s very peaceful – outside, at least. And Lois is always there, ferrying coffees, cutting slices of Kristy’s famous lemon meringue cheesecake, and generally running off her feet. And loving it.

The secret of Lake Edge Café’s success is, of course, Lois, but beyond that, it’s the same as for every country café that makes it past the first six months and the potential death of an innocent dream. It’s community.

It’s so tightly knit into its community, that some days Lois gets to hug every single person who walks in the door, which pleases her greatly. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m still not convinced she’s making money, but she wouldn’t swap it for quids.

My brother Tony takes a typically dry view of it all. “Basically, it’s been an amazing fiasco,” he says. “It’s the semi-retirement plan that went seriously wrong.” He says Lois honestly thought she would be sitting out there on the balcony with that spectacular vista, reading books and occasionally getting up to cook a burger for one of the local fishing folk.

Clearly, that didn’t happen, and she now has ten loyal and capable locals working for her as well; in the kitchen and on the floor. The contribution to the local economy, the training up of staff who go on elsewhere, the haven it has become for so many, is all testament to the power of a good café.

To this day, the beef on the menu is from her own South Devons. Originally the lamb was from Tony, although the closure of a local abattoir has sadly put paid to that. Left-over food goes to staff, to whatever pigs and dogs they may have, and sometimes to Tony.

“It’s been an interesting slog, especially given Lois makes everything from scratch and runs a zero-waste policy,” says Tony. “At the end of the day, the amount of food waste is less than a small ice-cream container. Mind you, I reckon the people who eat here were brought up to finish everything on their plates.”

It’s been like that right from the start: everything re-purposed, nothing wasted – not to get any high-falutin’ green credentials, but because of plain old common sense. Lois had the land – a magnificent site right on a lake known to trout fisherman throughout the country. Instead of building a new building, she scouted the state for an old one she could re-purpose, and came across a weatherboard former school building up for grabs in Homerton, near Portland.

The food is a big drawcard - nourishing, filling, recognisable, and full of flavour. Lois is a big fan of the Dinner Ladies cook book, and likes to keep things achievable and scalable. “It’s simple food, but it's not deep-fried schnitzel and chips, and people appreciate that,” she says.

Take a look at a typical blackboard listing. Egg and bacon pie. Ploughman’s Lunch. And cut-up fruit with the kid’s cheese toasty, because kids will eat cut-up fruit if it comes with a cheese toasty.

And here’s Terry analysing the South Devon burger and the wine list.

For Lois, running the café and preparing all the food is like a jigsaw. “You spend all morning putting the jigsaw together, then people come and disrupt it, then you start again the next day,” she says. “It’s never, ever finished. And sometimes you just can’t find that missing corner piece.”

Anyone who has ever been in hospitality will know exactly what she means.

Here’s to Lois, and to every country café that keeps us in scones, cakes, coffee, and that earns its place as a valued member of its community, every day.

Courtesy of Lois, here’s a recipe for Lake Edge Café’s extremely popular smoked salmon cheesecake. It’s gorgeous, the salmon flecked through a rich custard, and makes a lovely weekend lunch or brunch. Could also be a handy helper when it comes to pre-Christmas entertaining.

At the café, it’s served as part of a ridiculously generous salmon platter with seed biscuits, Turkish bread, a small salad, pear, honey, walnuts, cheese and pickles; and was inspired by a holiday a few years ago in rural Russia, when Tony and Lois stayed with the parents of their friend Olga.

Tony again: “Dill grows like a weed there and is in everything. Pickles and preserves come from the cellar, and it’s essential for survival to be able to catch fish, and to know someone with a cow, so you can make the fresh cheeses. This platter puts it all together.”

Legal disclaimer: Lois sent me a simplified form of the recipe via text and I cobbled it together. Also added lemon juice, and a touch of cornflour, so it’s not quite the one from the café, but the spirit is there.

Courtesy of Lois, here’s a recipe for Lake Edge Café’s extremely popular smoked salmon cheesecake. It’s gorgeous, the salmon flecked through a rich custard, and makes a lovely weekend lunch or brunch. Also could be ta handy helper when it comes to pre- Christmas entertaining.

At the café, it’s served as part of a ridiculously generous salmon platter with seed biscuits, Turkish bread, a small salad, pear, honey, walnuts, cheese and pickles; and was inspired by a holiday a few years ago in rural Russia, when Tony and Lois stayed with the parents of their friend Olga.

LAKE EDGE CAFÉ’S SMOKED SALMON CHEESECAKE

• 250 g cream cheese, softened

• 200 g ricotta

• 200 g sour cream

• 3 eggs

• 2 tbsp lemon juice

• 1 tbsp cornflour

• 250 g smoked salmon

• 200 g canned red salmon, drained and roughly crumbled

• 2 tbsp fresh dill, roughly chopped

• Half tsp salt, some ground pepper

• Half red onion, finely sliced

• Extra chopped dill for serving

Heat the oven to 185C conventional (165C fan-forced).

Pulse the cream cheese in a food processor until creamy, then add ricotta and sour cream and blend.

Add the eggs and blend, scraping down the sides once or twice.

Add the lemon juice and cornflour and blend.

Cut the smoked salmon into 3 cm slivers, not too thin, and toss with the red salmon and dill.

Add the cream cheese mixture and gently fold through.

Spray or lightly oil a 23 cm springform cake tin, pour in the mixture, and bake in the centre of the oven for 40 minutes, or until no longer jiggly in the middle.

Turn off the oven, leave the door ajar, and allow the cheesecake to cool for 30 minutes.

Remove from the cake tin, scatter with dill and sliced red onion, and serve.

Serves 4 to 6 people with a salad, or 8 to 10 as part of a platter.

# If you’re not sure your springform pan is watertight, line the base with a sheet of baking paper before you close the clasp, which will tighten any gaps. Place on a baking trray, to be sure.

# If you undercook this, it will be a bit weepy. Overcook, and it won’t be as custardy.

# Very nice with hot toast, ryebreads or crispbreads. Fennel salad would be good.

Thanks for dropping by! Thanks for the chat and the recipe, Lois, and have a great tenth birthday celebratory weekend. Special thanks to Terry for his modelling of the Lake Edge burger.

I would like to acknowledge the 12 clans of the Djargurd Wurrung people, as the traditional Aboriginal owners of the land around Camperdown and district in Victoria where I was born; and the traditional owners of the lands and waters upon which I work, live, cook and play; the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. I pay my respects to Elders past and present, and to the continuing strength and resilience of First Nations people, communities and cultures.